And The Winner Is
by morvamp
Summary: Elena's request was simple. Participate in Whitmore's 'Sexy Santa' contest by stripping your clothes in front of horny housewives. Damon's in. But if he's tumbling down this pit of embarrassment, he's dragging her along with him. Written for the A2A Holiday Exchange.


**It's that time of year again and with it comes the annual DE A2A Holiday Exchange! I wasn't sure I was going to be able to participate this time around, but tradition is tradition and I couldn't** _ **NOT**_ **fulfill a prompt.**

 **You can tell by my crappy title that I wrote this at the last minute. I wanted to get it to you before the holidays and didn't have time to run it by my fabulous beta. Plus, I'm not feeling too hot today, so I only read through it once. Please excuse any errors and be gentle with me if it ends up totally sucking.**

 _ **Prompt by seethegoodinyou:**_

 _Caroline organizes a "Sexy Santa" contest at Whitmore, and Elena suggests to Damon that he enter, never expecting him to actually take her up on it. Luckily for her, he's feeling festive this year, but does he have what it takes to win the contest and make this Christmas a memorable one for Elena?_

 _Feel free to make it as fluffy and/or as smutty as you like._

 _Bonus points for naughty/nice jokes and other Santa-related snark from Damon._

 **Not exactly sure on the time frame of this one. We'll just say it's set during a time where Damon and Elena are actually happy. Per usual, I accidently switched a few of the details while writing it, but I hope it meets expectations and you all ending up loving it.**

 **Enjoy the smut (there's a lot) and Happy Holidays!**

* * *

"Alright, ladies. Let's give a big round of applause for Damon Salvatore!"

I'm standing to the right of the stage, shielded behind a curtain, only three steps from the spotlight. My annoyance is kicking in. My pulse is a deafening throb in my skull.

It's not that I'm nervous. Far from it. I'm no stranger to shedding my clothes in the name of good fun, especially not in front of a crowd of women. But that was before I had _her_. The one I waited lifetimes for.

Parading around as the eternal stud, seeking envy from every stranger, just isn't necessary anymore. Not after revealing my soul and finally being accepted for exactly who I am.

Standing here, my old playboy act feels so beneath me now.

 _So why the hell did I agree to this again?_

Oh right. Because Elena asked me to participate and God knows I'd do anything for her.

 _Make pancakes for breakfast?_ Sure.

 _Take a spontaneous road trip with me?_ No problem.

 _Love me forever?_ Of course.

 _Suck your own dick?_ I'm sure I can figure it out.

 _Participate in Whitmore's 'Sexy Santa' contest by stripping your clothes in front of horny housewives?_ Why the hell not.

Cheers erupt from the sea of women seated just beyond the curtain and I grind my teeth to keep from flipping off Caroline, who's positioned in the front row at the judge's table. She's flanked by two other judges, both women in their mid-thirties. I'm certain their vibrators are stocked with fresh batteries, just waiting for their eager hands when this is over.

Blondie gives me a smug little wave of her fingers, which I return with a malicious smirk.

This is _actually_ her doing. I'd overhead her conversation with Elena in our kitchen last week where she'd thrown out words like 'charity' and 'good cause' to sway my girl into asking me. She'd followed up her manipulative heartstring yanking with, "Women need an incentive to dish out top dollar for this event and he's the prime hunk of meat to dangle in front of them."

Well, I may be just a slab of beef to Blondie, but at least I'm filet mignon. I guess that counts for something.

My eyes scan the crowd, finding Elena. She's dressed in a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit and since she's in the front row, I can almost see up her short skirt. Good. If I'm going through with this, I need something to focus on.

There's a rush of hoots from the crowd and I groan. I remind myself I'm doing this for my girl, and, I suppose, those poor African children who need to eat. Because of them I'm offering myself up in the sake of holiday giving. Just consider me Santa- _LetsShedThosePants_ -Claus.

Ho ho… _Hold up_.

Elena did _not_ just cross her legs. And there's no way in hell she did it on purpose. But she accompanies the action with a wink and whispers, "Not until later," which she's damn sure I can hear.

It's followed by the kiss she blows, taunting me further.

And to think I almost went through with this good deed without pulling any tricks from my sack.

Well, fine. If that's how she wants to play this, I'm game. If I'm tumbling into this pit of embarrassment, I'm dragging her with me, all while making sure we both have one hell of a time doing it.

I'd had my routine all planned out, but I push from the curtain and flash to the stage assistant. Latching my eyes onto his, I instruct, "Play 'Santa Claus Is Coming To Town' second." I reach into the pocket of my Santa suit and hand him a flash drive. "This one gets played first."

Grinning, I release his eyes and step towards the center of the stage. The crowd of desperate women is still in a tizzy, eager for the performance to start. Me, I'm just eager to get to the main event.

Elena has no idea what she's in for.

The lights dim, descending us into darkness. I hear the pull of the curtain as they part and expose the stage. Just another second before these chicks get the show of a lifetime.

A slew of performances have already been given, each a shitty variation of some stupid Christmas jam where the seasoned men jabbed their hips from side to side with the grace of an unoiled seesaw. That won't be the case with me. As I've said in the past, "I've got moves these chicks have never seen before."

The first few notes of Ginuwine's 'Pony' blast from the speakers and I'm illuminated by a blue spotlight. At the tune, squeals screech from the crowd. A few women even jolt from their seats to their feet.

As the bass throbs, I stretch my arms above my head and bring my hands together in time to the beat. My hips curl, pumping forward as I pop and lock in perfect rhythm.

I dip down and wind myself to the ground, thrusting in the direction of the excited crowd. They respond by screaming, "Take it off."

Well, aren't they just an eager bunch.

Smirking, I continue my show, making them wait. Anticipation is the key to seduction.

I rise and fall to the swell of the tune, playing with the buttons of my suit every once in a while to tease. When the crowd is sufficiently piqued, I rip the top of the suit over my head and toss it in their direction.

The brunette that catches it screams at the top of her lungs and whirls it around her head.

Energized by the enthusiasm, I pick up my swag, moonwalking to the left of the stage, showing them a little love with my crotch. Then I repeat the moves on the right.

Toying at the band of my pants, I sink it down slightly. The women cheer at the reveal of my hip flexes and I respond by moving my hand to my dick and thrusting. I've learned from experience they love that shit.

The crowd electrifies with shouts and fist pumps, so I give them what they want. My fingers fist the velvet material of my pants before I rip it from my leg, revealing my tight as hell red satin briefs. They're barely given a second to view the candy cane decal positioned right over my dick before the lights shut off, the music goes silent, and I shout, "Hold up."

Protests bark from the crowd and I laugh softly, knowing what's coming.

With the auditorium a sheet of black, I call out, "Is everyone alright if I switch things up for a bit?"

The resounding cheer I get is answer enough.

"What the heck are you doing, Damon?" Caroline whispers from the crowd, but I ignore her. I agreed to this shit. Doesn't mean I have to play by her rules.

The spotlight flips back on, lighting me just enough for the audience to see my silhouette. "For the next part of of my performance, I'm gonna need a volunteer." Leaning forward, I raise my right hand in the air and ask, "Do I have any takers?"

The screeches I receive almost shatter my eardrums. I guess they're excited to get close and personal.

I walk down the stage towards the crowd, pretending to consider my options. There's only one person I want up there with me during this next part and it sure as hell isn't the Betty White currently jabbing her hand in my face.

"Not flexible enough," I decline as I head down the line towards my girl. "Too eager. Too many clothes. Too _little_ clothes."

When a redhead reaches out to smack my ass, I resist the urge to bare my fangs and instead keep up my charm. "Easy ladies," I toy with the wag of my index finger. "These are prized goods."

Only a few more steps until I halt in front of Elena and the warning in her eyes is all the incentive I need.

 _Shouldn't have stoked the fire, babe._

"You, my dear, are perfect." I extend my hand towards my girl, grinning. "Are you ready to give these fine women a show?"

She narrows her eyes and challenges my authority, but with the women screaming for her to get her ass up so we can continue the performance, she's caught between her chair and a hard place. Just like she'll be on stage.

"I'm going to kill you," she sneers as she stands, and with a victorious grin I lead her to the stage.

I maneuver a chair to the center and position her in it. "Remember, it's for charity. So smile." Shooting her a wink, I add, "In a second, I'll have it quivering."

She opens her mouth to fire off a retort, but the lights flare, shifting to red, and the chimes of my jolly Christmas carol ring.

Elena plasters a fake smile to her face and I make a circle in front of her, teasing the crowd, bringing them in. When I get back to her, I halt and spread my legs. There's a foot of distance separating her knees from my satin clad dick, but I already feel her pulse yearning for me beneath her skin as I lean back and edge it closer.

Winding around, I thrust in her direction, once, twice, before I spread her thighs and drop to my knees between them. There's a flash of lace she's going to kill me for later, but the visual is _beyond_ worth it.

My hands grip her shoulders, and I drag the tip of my nose along her stomach, between her breasts, towards the column of her neck. She smells like vanilla and cherished moments and salvation, my favorite scent. Too bad I can't indulge in a taste.

Just as 'Santa Claus is coming to town' echoes through the auditorium, I reach the base of her ear and whisper, "He wont be the only one coming after this."

Despite her initial protests, her body shivers in respond, skimming her hardened nipples against my chest. She has a death grip on the metal seat of the chair as I grind myself between her thighs. Her breathing turns shallow and the tiny gasps she releases trail along the side of my face. I'm driving her crazy. Problem is, being this close to her, feeling her lust wrap around me in tendrils, has me just as crazy.

 _Shit_. My dick is starting to strain beneath my flimsy satin briefs. I didn't think this through and before our gawking crowd has a chance to see my glaring hard-on, I need to switch up our position.

Making the transition flawless, I drag myself along her stomach and arch her chair backwards towards the ground. The motion has her hands falling above her head and a genuine laugh escaping her lips.

 _I saw that, babe._

With my free hand beneath her head, her chair hits the stage and, with my ass pointed towards the crowd to conceal my tent, I rotate my hips in seductive circles inches above her face. Her fingertips grip the muscles of my thighs, revealing I've got her right where I want her. She's desperate.

Good. Cause so am I. This fucking song needs to end soon so I can get her alone and the real show can begin.

Reaching down, I pull her up and kick the chair away before twisting her around so her back is pressed against my chest. Her ass is also nestled right against my dick, concealing my need. In a few minutes, I'll be sinking it into her, drowning in the rush as she drags along my shaft.

The thought makes me groan.

The cheers from the crowd swell when I spin us around so Elena's facing the front. I glide my hand along her stomach, catching the velvet fabric of her Mrs. Claus outfit as I ascend upwards. Being the gentleman I am, I release it, continuing between her breasts and around her neck. Her heart pounds the entire time.

When I reach the back, I gently push her down so she's bent in front of me, her legs spread, and… _Holy Hell_.

Her skirt lifts up, revealing her toned thighs leading to the perky ass wrapped in lacy boy shorts. The red matches her outfit and I swear to God, if this song doesn't end in the next five seconds, I might screw her on this stage. Crowd be damned.

My hands white-knuckle her hips and I satisfy my hunger by sinking myself between her decadent cheeks. Amidst the dancing, I dry hump her on that stage, burying myself as deep as I can. Her laughing transitions to soft moaning and thank God her face is positioned towards the ground. Because I know the look that accompanies that sound. Her lips are parted, her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are rolling back into her head. It'd be quite the imagery for our stimulated audience.

She starts to push back, grinding against me. I'm certain my girl's a few rotations away from creaming those thin panties of hers, so latching onto whatever restraint I can find, I pull her back up so she's standing again.

It releases just enough pressure for me to continue with my dancing. I tantalize her backside and run my hands along her delicate curves in suggestive sweeps. And by the time the music finally dies down, her heart is slamming through her chest and the scent of her arousal is overriding my senses.

Cheers erupt from the audience and I lean in to demand, "You're never allowed to wear anything but that skirt again."

She doesn't respond, just yanks my hands away and stomps off the stage. It's a good thing I'm fast with the reflexes and covertly cover my junk, otherwise my rod would have stolen the show.

Women scream for an encore with more volunteers, but I leave them with a departing grin and chase after Elena.

She's quick. I'll give her that. But I know my girl's scent and it's not difficult to track her down in the classroom she's jetted to.

Her chest is heaving in anger beneath her tight little outfit as I step through the door and shut it. One long tanned leg leads to a black heel she taps impatiently on the ground.

She's a sight, for sure, but through her rage, I feel her desire. It pulses beneath her skin and begs for my touch.

I'm all too happy to satisfy it.

"It was supposed to be one song and _no_ volunteers, Damon. Instead, you spread my legs for everyone to see," she clips plastering her hands to her hips. "Was it worth it? Did you enjoy yourself?"

Her fire is remarkable and I want nothing more than to capture its power beneath my mouth. But this is a game, one she started, and I'll never back down from an even match.

I take a step towards her, licking my lips, and encroach her space. "Not as much as you did."

Her gaze falls to my mouth before it trails down my naked torso. I don't miss the drastic rise and fall of her chest when she reaches my crotch.

Pursing her lips, she swallows. "Your candy cane begs to differ."

I glance down. My erection throbs with need, straining long and hard beneath the decal. The striped material falls at just the perfect spot to appear like the holiday treat is jutting from between my thighs.

Needless to say, it's not a life-size replication. It's a hell of a lot bigger.

I smirk.

"Wanna give it a good lick?"

She feigns offense, playing the role of the innocent girl I met years ago. She's still a hell of a lot more innocent than I'll ever be, but she shed the principled act when she refused to apologize for falling in love with me.

After everything we've been through and done for each other, she knows morals aren't strictly black and white now and that—more times than not—those grey areas offer the most fun. She also knows foreplay is more than just a quick finger jam ( _sorry, Stef)_ and that's exactly what we've been doing.

Her eyes narrow, still acting offended at what I put us both through on that stage. "After the stunt you pulled out there? Not a chance."

I release a soft laugh, inching her back towards the wall until she's pressed against it. When I have her willingly trapped, I take what I wasn't allowed to on stage. I skim my fingers over the soft flesh of her right thigh, hearing her breath hitch as I ascend upwards, beneath the sexy skirt and along the lace of her panties.

Like I expected, they're soaked.

"Your body says you enjoyed it," I taunt, licking my lips.

"I didn't."

 _Yeah, if she repeats that thirty times, she may even believe it._

My index finger grazes the crease of her folds and, despite her griping, she pushes down, sinking my finger onto her clit. Her breathing picks up pace with each glide and… _Fuck yes_.

Although the idea of her mouth wrapped around my cock has pre-cum dripping from my tip, I now want her sex clamped around it more.

I want her heat. I want her passion. I want _her_.

Dipping my head, I press my lips against the curve of her neck, tasting the salt on her skin.

"Come on, baby," I purr, slipping two fingers beneath the flimsy fabric. They play with her entrance and she arches her body, pushing her chest against mine. "You loved it. Seeing all of those women dying to have what you have."

And she does. Every piece. Every part.

It all belongs to her.

"Maybe," she releases in a shaky breath. "Or maybe I was just playing along to help you win."

I've created one hell of a sexy little monster because this teasing bit, well, she got it straight from me. And it turns me the fuck on.

My cock aches in anticipation, in _need_. It's as desperate as I am to dip inside of her, but I hold off. I'm waiting for the confession—the plea—that drives me wild, the words to match the heartbeat I can hear a mile away. The one that drums the rhythm of trust, worship, _love_.

I sink my fingers into her, feeling her shudder against me, and tantalize her G-spot. My lips caress her neck, my thumb reaches to spiral against her clit. She's mewling like a kitten and just when I've sufficiently got her on the precipice of that desirable edge, I halt my motions.

I smirk at the soft whimper she releases before she asks, "Damon?"

Arching back to see her face, I lift a brow. "Have an admittance for me?"

When she scowls at me, I take the opportunity to remove my fingers and bring them to my mouth. My tongue darts out, tasting her on my flesh, fueling her desire without actually touching her.

I'm the ultimate tease.

"Fine." She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "If you want to know the truth, what we did had me seconds away from forgetting the audience was even there. I'm worked up. My thighs haven't stopped shaking, my mind can't stop fantasizing about this moment, and I just… I want you. In this classroom. Up against the wall. On a desk. It doesn't matter."

 _There it is._

The anger drops from her expression as seduction rolls on in and I think the look she's giving me just sucked the oxygen from my lungs, cause it's really fucking hard to breathe right now.

Inching her face closer, she brushes her soft lips against mine. "Can you handle that request?"

 _Hell yes I can._

Biting her lower lip, I give it a good tug and release before glancing at my rock hard candy cane. "Go ahead, I'm dying for you to open this package."

Her eyes narrow and she reaches up to stifle more of my words with her finger. "No more Christmas puns."

At her demand, I curl my tongue around her skin and pull it into my mouth. The arousal pooling in her eyes hits me with a jolt of satisfaction, but defiance is nipping at my throat and I can't help myself. With a pop, I release her finger and cock a brow. "Better start unwrapping soon. Since this will effectively put us on the naughty list, I doubt Santa's bringing you anything else this year."

I'm joking, of course. There's a wrapped box with a heart shaped bracelet in my dresser drawer I spent a fortune on last week because I'm a love-struck sap.

What can I say? Rose was right. Love really _does_ change us.

"You're hopeless," Elena growls before she swoops in to bite my neck. A quick, innocent snip of the canines.

Tugging at the base of her hair, I twist her face back to mine. "Now you're _definitely_ on the naughty list."

"Great," she says with a snap of her fangs at my nose. "Cause now I can say I like your balls."

It's a terrible pun, but her smile reveals she's pleased with herself. And I'll admit, coming from her, it's abso-fucking-lutely adorable. I laugh like an idiot.

The responsive giggles she returns are enough to grip my chest. Only this girl can have me thinking about her pussy one second, and needing nothing more than to share in her hilarity the next.

Working my hands through her hair, I pull her closer so her forehead rests against mine. "Alright no more Christmas puns. I promise."

Her smile widens. She's probably revisiting the same memory I am. Thanks to meteors, rain, and forevers, promises are now sacred territory for us. And they're never broken.

She knits her arms behind my neck. Warmth lights her features and she whispers, "I can't believe I'm saying this right now, but I love you."

"I love you, too. Forever." There's nothing truer than that statement and I punctuate it with a soft kiss.

These are the moments I live for. The tender ones between the teasing where I pull back to find her staring at me like I'm the resolution to everything she's been missing in life. But we scurried to this classroom for a reason and it's about time we get to it.

My cock pulses, signifying it's dwindling patience. So I push it against her and plead, "Now, for the love of God, can I _please_ make you come?"

She doesn't say a word. Just steps back, bites her lower lip, and spreads her legs.

Her skirt rides up, revealing an extra inch of decadent skin. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

"I repeat; you are never allowed to wear anything other than that skirt again."

She shrugs, the corner of her mouth lifting. "We'll see."

Her rebellious attitude, paired with that outfit, has pressure tightening my abs. Yep, this is gonna be fast. I need release and my dick is as hard as an icicle. _Shit_. Too many puns; now I'm crafting corny metaphors in my head in the spirit of this damn holiday.

Since she gave me the go ahead, I silence my mind by getting down to business. Reaching out, I grab the back of her thighs and lift. They wrap around me like cellophane as her hands do quick work on my briefs.

Down my legs they go.

My tip breaches her entrance, but the lace is still in the way. Fucking lace. I've always been a fan, but I've never hated anything as much as I hate that lace in this moment.

Thankfully, Elena's already one step ahead of me. Before I can free my hand and reach down, she pushes it to the side and slides me into position. Then, without further ado, I slam in.

"Fuck," I pant.

The first thrust is always the best and after our dry humping session on stage, it's a Christmas miracle I don't come at the contact. Because she feels like heaven. Clouds and pearly gates and her gorgeous face are all I see.

"I know," she agrees with a relieved sigh. Her hands find my shoulders; her lips find mine. Then we flare like the fucking supernova we are.

With her back smashed against the wall and her ankles knotted behind my waist, we set a steady rhythm. I dive all of the way in, to the hilt. She takes every inch, proving what I've always known—her body was crafted specifically for mine. Her thighs tense around me, gripping with an intensity that makes me shudder. I never want to let her go.

"There's nothing better than this," I say against her lips.

Her eyes sparkle with mirth and I feel her smile at my words before she plunges her tongue into my mouth, meeting mine in a dance we started so long ago.

At the taste of her, my heart beats faster. Hers does the same. And when I breathe in, she releases. We're in tune to every shift of the other. Always have been.

I groan as her mouth works mine, hungry and fast. And when she pulls back so our eyes can meet, I want to drown in the chocolate I spent years pining for. They only gaze at me with awe now.

There's no doubt she finally understands the way I love her. Raw. Wild. And it flows into everything she does. It streams from her eyes, cries from her mouth, grinds against my cock as she rides me.

She's stunning.

And through it all, we're probably making a hell of a lot of noise, but there's no chance I'm dimming her radiance with a hand over the mouth. Let her screams echo through the hallways and auditorium for all I care. It'll give the housewives something to romanticize about when they screw their hands or lousy husbands later.

Elena's heels dig into my ass, slamming my hips against hers, signifying she _needs_ this just as much as I do.

"You're right—" she agrees, "there's nothing better than this."

There isn't. Except…

My fingertips dig into her left thigh and I maneuver my other arm to lift her right leg higher, getting a better angle. Then I capture her lips beneath mine, wanting the feel or her back on me, _everywhere_. Because there's nothing better than _this_. Her mouth on mine, her sex bared and stretched around me, her heart pounding through her chest to reach mine.

Her nails respond by digging into my back and I meet each curl of her hips with a powerful thrust, slamming into her again and again. All the while, she tightens around me in greedy pulses.

Then she rips her lips away and rests her head against the wall. Her eyes shut, her mouth parts, and the most satisfying moan escapes.

It's followed by a drawn out, "Yes."

I've hit the G-spot again. Perfect. Cause with the vice grip she has on me, I'm already seconds away from spilling into her.

"How does this compare to your fantasies?" I tease before I dive to her neck and pick up the pace.

"Better," she gasps. "So much better."

Her perked nipples tantalize my chest through the fabric of her outfit, which only entices me further. My fingers sink into her skin, my thrusts turn harder, and within seconds her whole body jerks with her release.

"Oh God," she cries, fingers reaching to grip my hair and her sex clamping around me.

My balls tighten and I nearly lose my footing. She feels that fucking good.

Heat spirals south and I follow her over the edge, losing myself in the wave of ecstasy that rips through. Groaning something that resembles her name, I feel her lips find mine so she can catch it with her mouth.

I tremble against her body until the rush dies down. Ease trickles in, hooding my eyes and enveloping me with her equally gratified state. Sweat trails down my back as we both try to catch our breath and when I dip my forehead to rest against her chest, it rises and fall in a soothing rhythm. Neither of us makes the move to separate.

"I've had fantasies about us in a classroom before tonight," she eventually admits. Threading her fingers through my hair, she lifts me gently by the roots and places a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. "So thanks for the present. It satisfied more than you know."

I prepare to demand more info about these other fantasies, but she cuts me off to ask, "Do you think we were too loud?"

The door to the classroom bursts open and Caroline stomps her ass into the room. "Yes. You're in a school for Christ's sake."

At the intrusion, Elena gasps. "A little heads up would have been nice."

She yanks off me and pulls her skirt down. If it was possible, I'm sure she'd sink into the very wall we just fucked on because, truth is, she's a firecracker when we're alone, but she reserves that fire for only me. Everyone else gets the modest version of my girl, the one bursting with compassion and benevolence, while I get the entire kaleidoscope of what makes her extraordinary.

What we just did falls on the darker side of that scope and Caroline storming in with her judgment is now clouding my girl's shine. I want to murder her for it.

"We're a little busy here, Blondie," I snap, irritated. Glancing to the floor, I notice my briefs. I sigh. "I'm also a little naked."

Caroline scoffs. "It's nothing I haven't seen before."

I turn to glare at her just in time to see her hand swipe dismissively through the air. "Just wanted to let you both know the show is over and the crowd is headed this way. Since I had the luxury of actually _hearing_ you finish, I don't need to tell you to hurry up."

She throws her hands on her hips and gives me a self-righteous little grin. "But you might want to get dressed."

Spinning on her black pumps, she exits through the door adding, "Oh, and, Damon. You won, by the way."

I glance at Elena, who, now that we're alone, has an amused smile on her face. The playful fire I cherish is back. Her cheeks are flushed with bliss. Her eyes are alight with love. And she bursts out laughing.

Through it, she says, "So… you won."

I'm marveled. She rolled with the punches today. And not only did we just have sex in a classroom, but we were caught doing it, embarrassing the hell out of her, and yet, she's still _ridiculously_ happy. Just like she continues to make me.

What did I ever do to deserve this girl?

Ignoring Caroline's order to get dressed, I reach to cup Elena's face and graze my thumb along her cheek.

"Yeah," I say. "I did."

* * *

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